


Strawberry Honeysuckle

by longleggedgit



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marui is sugar-crashy, Jirou sleeps a lot and then bounces on Marui a lot more, and Oshitari spills coffee. Sneakily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a collaboration between myself and [Anjenue](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/) in 2008. <3 RPG-style format, so be warned, lots of POV changes.

'Next! A-court, Rikkai's Niou/Yagyuu pair against Hyotei's Oshitari/Mukahi pair! C-court, Fudomine's Tachibana against Seigaku's Fuji!'

Marui rolled his eyes and cracked his gum. Loudly. Hyotei's Shishido shot him a filthy look, and Sanada-fukubuchou cleared his throat pointedly, but that damn Oishi just kept on smiling and looking earnest. That's all he ever seemed to _do_ , smile and look earnest, except when he was smiling and looking worried.

Jackal shot Marui one of those sideways looks that said _oi, you're being grumpy, go eat more sugar_ , but Marui ignored him, instead scanning the expansive fields surrounding the court in search of a nice peaceful getaway where he could hide from insufferable Seigaku, snotty Hyotei, and delinquent Fudomine. And preferably also Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-fukubuchou, who had both been in absolutely _foul_ moods since Rikkai had lost to Seigaku in the finals. None of the rest of the team had been happy either, but Yukimura and Sanada were taking it a bit too far. Niou was still covered in bruises from his inability to stop mouthing off.

Marui sighed and cracked his gum again, a bit less obnoxiously. And then grinned as he spotted a bench under a lovely cradle of overhanging branches. It was almost _too_ idyllic, but Marui wasn't _that_ picky. Wiggling his fingers at Jackal, he trotted off in the direction of the bench, hoping nobody would notice him 'slacking off', or else he'd be running laps until the end of the bloody _week_.

 

The dream had something to do with pickles. Pickles, and possibly Atobe-buchou, although he'd learned from past experience that even if his dream was about Atobe-buchou, he shouldn't say anything to him about it. It made a weird look cross his face and usually resulted in Jirou running extra laps. Anyway, Jirou didn't really like pickles, so he rolled over and stretched once and decided to try for a different dream. The bench wasn't an ideal location for dreaming, but it was better than bleachers, and Jirou spent a lot of time napping on bleachers.

Falling asleep was easy for Jirou, but there were certain tricks to making it easier, and one of them was thinking about tennis. Jirou thought about the most recent match he'd played, which had resulted in Kamio from Fudomine getting really angry at him - Jirou couldn't see why, he was so cool - and the new grip tape he wanted to buy, except the store was always out, and the glimpse of training he saw that kind of scary boy from Seigaku doing the other day. It was pretty cool training, really. Maybe he wasn't so scary after all. Jirou thought maybe he would ask him if he could watch him train later. . . .

Jirou thought he heard the sound of someone walking nearby, but decided it wasn't worth opening his eyes; it was probably just a bird or a squirrel, and while squirrels were pretty cool, he figured maybe he could just dream about squirrels and then he could watch them without even having to wake up.

 

Marui batted at a cascade of sakura petals as he made it past the edge of the courts without being noticed. The grass was littered with them, pink on green, and he grimaced as he remembered the time Niou had teased him by telling him he looked like a budding flower whenever he blew a bubble. But then, it'd taken Niou two hours and a sharp pair of scissors to get the gum out of his hair after that, so it hadn't been a complete loss.

Sighing to himself, Marui blew another bubble, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking up at the clouds as he made his way across the lawn. The bench looked even more tempting from closer up, and he had already started daydreaming about chocolate fudge ripple ice cream before he even made a running leap over the back of the bench, stretching out in preparation on his way down.

 

Well that was . . . unexpected. And probably not a squirrel. Jirou gave a small yelp and cautiously, reluctantly, opened his eyes, fairly confident that whatever had just landed on top of him was a person and not a bear. Still, you never could tell.

Jirou blinked at the sight of blindingly pink hair. Then he rubbed one of his eyes, blinked again, and almost whapped the boy on top of him in the face because his arms were flailing so hard.

'Hey, you're - _you're Marui Bunta!_ ' Jirou couldn't really move too much, still being pinned under Marui's weight, but it didn't stop him from literally quivering with excitement. 'YOU'RE SO COOL! I can't believe you're sitting on me!'

 

Benches weren't supposed to squirm. That was Marui's sole coherent thought before said bench started flailing and shrieking at him, and then he was so startled that he would have fallen off the bench and onto his ass had he not been Marui Bunta. Instead, he grabbed at the bench (the _actual_ bench) to keep from tumbling off the side, and waited until the flailing had subsided somewhat before disentangling himself and standing up, all in one smooth movement as if that's exactly what he'd meant to do. Because, of course, it was.

'Ah, uh...Akutagawa-kun, right?' Marui blew a perplexed bubble, wondering why the other boy was staring at him as if pleading him to sit back down again. 'Sorry 'bout that. You kind of blended in with the bench, you know,' he added with a wave of his hand to indicate the bench and the boy, who in all honesty looked...nothing alike.

 

'You know my name?' Jirou fought the urge to get up and do a little victory dance, then realized that was silly, why fight something like that? So he got up and did one anyway before sitting back down.

'Wow,' he said. He took a deep breath, which was really just preparation for launching into a slur of questioning. 'Did you just play a game? Who were you playing? Did you win? I'm sure you won, you're so awesome. I haven't really been playing people, I've mostly been napping because I'm bored.' Jirou cut himself off abruptly when he looked up and caught a glimpse of Marui's mildly horrified stare.

'Oh,' he said, 'sorry. Atobe-buchou says I talk too much.'

 

'.....ha,' Marui replied, intelligently, scrubbing a hand through his hair. This kid was crazier than Akaya when he got into his secret cake stash, and _that_ was something no human should be able to accomplish. The fact that he was this bouncy after having just woken up, too, made Marui wonder as to the kid's sugar intake.

'Um. Yeah, Jackal and I just finished playing. We trounced those two from Fudomine,' he added offhandedly, since that was of course a total given. He wasn't even sure why Atobe had invited Fudomine along, though he supposed it was for some sort of balance, or something. That kid was about the gayest individual Marui had ever met. He took neat and organized to a whole new level that even Yagyuu couldn't touch.

He eyed the open side of the bench with some trepidation for a moment, and then flung himself down onto it, stretching out his legs and blowing a lazy bubble. 'I don't blame you for being bored,' he added. 'There's nobody here worth playing really.'

 

Jirou couldn't quite hide his wide-eyed disbelief when Marui actually sat down next to him. Most of the awesome tennis players he got to talk to hightailed it in the opposite direction somewhere between Jirou doing his victory dance and asking for details about their matches. His expression of disbelief was quickly replaced with one of joy, however, and he scooted slightly closer to Marui so he could better study him.

'Yeah, I suppose they wouldn't be to you,' Jirou said, nodding in complete agreement. His eyes traveled from Marui's face to his arm, which he suddenly and without warning grabbed and pulled in to line up with his own.

'Your arms are barely any bigger than mine!' he exclaimed. 'I can't believe you can pull off that tightrope shot! That's so cool!'

 

Marui's arm twitched in the rather enthusiastic grasp, but he smiled anyway. _Here_ was a kid with good taste and an eye for talent. 'It's not about strength, you know,' he said loftily. 'It's all in the technique. I mean, I _am_ a genius, but I bet you could come up with something equally...um, cool, if you work hard at it!' Privately, Marui thought that a kid who slept through practices on a regular basis was about as likely to manage a special shot akin to his own as Jackal was to win a _best hair_ contest, but there was no harm in being encouraging.

 

Jirou dropped Marui's arm without warning and leaned back, eyes never straying from Marui's face. After a moment of stunned silence - Marui had actually _complimented_ him, sort of, and he wasn't running away or screaming for help or _anything_ \- his bottom lip quivered and he propelled himself forward, wrapping both arms around Marui's back and pulling him into a suffocating hug.

'THAT'S SO NICE OF YOU TO SAY!' he nearly sobbed. Still holding on tightly, he continued, 'I can't believe you think I could be that cool! You're so nice, Marui-kun!'

 

Marui choked as he found himself suddenly on the receiving end of a quivering monkey hug, and then he really _was_ choking as the sudden inhale of breath had brought his gum along with it, and it was now lodged in his throat. He scrabbled at Akutagawa's shoulders for a moment, trying to get free enough to breathe, even though he couldn't, and tipped his head back, taking desperate gulps in an attempt to either swallow the gum all the way or dislodge it with a particularly strong breath.

 

For a second, Jirou thought Marui was overcome with excitement and short of breath as a result, because that happened to _him_ all the time. Then Marui's fingernails dug into his shoulders and he realized something was wrong, so he jumped back.

'Marui-kun?' Jirou gasped when he realized Marui was choking, and he ran behind the bench to get a good angle so he could smack Marui hard on the back.

'Are you okay?' Jirou fought the urge to jump up and down in panic. 'Should I go get someone?'

 

Marui sucked in a cooling breath, massaging his abused throat, and then looked sadly at the ground, where his gum had been projectile-launched out of his mouth to land sweetly in a nest of sakura petals. For a moment, he considered going and picking it up, shoving it back into his mouth, and pretending the whole thing had never happened, but he had a feeling if he did that, this kid would be freaking out about how cool Marui-kun was for eating gum off the ground.

Sigh. It was so hard being admired.

'Thanks,' he croaked, and then leaned back, fumbling in his pocket for another piece of gum. And then cursed, loudly, when he realized his pack of gum was back in his tennis bag, and if he went back for it, someone would surely see him show up, realize he'd been gone, and at the very least make him stay there, which was bad enough on its own. Akutagawa-kun was crazy, but at least he was a more inviting brand of crazy than his captain. Or Marui's captain, for that matter.

He sighed and slumped against the back of the bench, flopping his head back and noting, with idle interest, that Akutagawa-kun looked about nine years old when viewed upside-down.

'I'm out of gum,' he said, tragically.

 

Jirou tried to tear around to the other side of the bench again, but in his enthusiasm managed to actually flip himself over the back. He stumbled into a crouching position, landing on his feet, remarkably enough, before he grabbed both of Marui's hands and squeezed.

'I'm so sorry! It's all my fault!' he said mournfully. 'I'll go find you some gum! What kind do you like?'

He dropped Marui's hands and began to jog backwards in the direction of Atobe's mansion, apparently deciding it would take too long to wait for an answer.

'I'll just get you a bunch of different kinds!'

 

Marui blinked in surprise, then half-twisted to look over the back of the bench at the retreating figure. Akutagawa-kun was like a human tennis ball - just as bouncy, just as fuzzy, and just as unpredictable from one moment to the next. All he needed was the bright yellow-green outfit, but Marui privately thought that the only person who could _ever_ look good in that color was Yukimura-buchou.

Sighing, he flopped over onto his back on the bench, staring up at the sky. He'd expected this whole week to be a total wash. It _was_ nice to be able to play tennis again after retiring, especially in a competitive venue (though it wasn't like Rikkai was lacking in competition within itself), but Seigaku was insufferable as ever, and Hyotei was just as uppity, and Fudomine was just plain disturbing. It was good that Shitenhouji wasn't here too, or else there might well have been accidental death-by-tennis-ball.

But this kid...he wasn't all bad. Marui didn't hold out much hope that he was a good tennis player, because even though he was on Hyotei's regulars, they'd trounced every last one of Hyotei's players thus far. Besides, only wannabe players actually flailed at each other. Respecting a fellow player's special moves was one thing; freaking out about them was another thing entirely, and something to be expected of first years and pre-regulars. And girls, of course. Marui got a lot of flailing from girls. (Though secretly, he thought that girls flailing was just tiresome, even if his teammates seemed to revel in it.)

Despite that, he seemed eager enough to do anything for Marui, so Marui figured the least he could do was indulge the kid. Maybe he'd be able to make the week a bit less dismal.

 

Jirou dashed into Atobe's mansion at full speed and tore up the main flight of stairs, ignoring the servants he passed when they hesitantly offered him some assistance. He only came to a halt when he found himself facing a dead-end in a hallway he'd never seen before, cursing that he hadn't thought to ask one of the servants for a pack of gum. Knowing Atobe's standards, they'd probably be able to give him twenty packs in as many different flavors.

He whirled around to try and retrace his steps - and he really had to hurry now, because Marui's throat was probably getting all dry, and anyway, who knew how long he'd stick around on that bench waiting? - and ran smack into Oshitari, letting out a soft 'Oof!' as he bounced back off his chest.

Jirou gazed up at Oshitari's unreadable face and clasped his hands together above his head pleadingly.

'Oshitari-kun, please help me, I need some gum quick and I'm lost and I don't know how long Marui-kun is going to stay on the bench and I can't find any servants all of a sudden and I know you know your way around here better than I do and can you help me find some gum please please please please?'

 

Oshitari had managed to get his coffee up out of the way just in time before Jirou slammed into him. The Hyotei team had all developed uncommonly fast reflexes for exactly this reason - after being showered with liquids in varying temperatures more times than they cared to count, they'd learned fast.

'Jirou,' he drawled, taking a step back and looking at the shorter boy, who was vibrating like an excited rabbit, 'calm down. You said Marui's waiting for you to bring him some gum? If you promised him sugar, I'm sure he won't get up and walk away before you get back with it.'

 _Hm_ , he thought, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. So Jirou's object of hero-worship had finally deigned to talk to him, eh? This definitely sounded interesting enough to delay his shower for.

 

'Do you really think so?' Jirou asked, eyes glistening with overwhelming gratitude. Then, realizing he wasn't focused enough on his task, he shook his head violently and grabbed a fistful of Oshitari's shirt.

'But if I don't hurry he might think I'm not coming! Do you know where I can find some? I told him I'd bring a few different kinds but I don't know what flavors he likes! What if he hates them all?'

He tugged at Oshitari's shirt with every other word for dramatic emphasis, completely oblivious to the hot cup of coffee Oshitari was attempting to balance.

'He told me I could be cool!' Jirou added, clearly expecting Oshitari to follow his train of thought as he gave his shirt one last violent jerk.

 

Oshitari was a dangerous man to involve whenever there was a romantic entanglement at stake. Everyone else on the team had learnt that as quickly as they'd learnt to handle their liquids (except perhaps Ootori, but then he'd always been a bit naive). But Jirou was completely oblivious, which made it much easier for Oshitari to do what he was planning to do.

'Oops,' he said with a look of mock regret as his cup of coffee tilted in his hand, spilling down the front of Jirou's shirt. Some of it splashed onto Oshitari as well, but he was sweaty and sticky and needed to shower and change anyway, so that didn't much matter. But Jirou's shirt ended up drenched and stained a lovely milky brown (which, Oshitari thought privately, set off the color of his hair quite nicely).

'I'm so sorry, Jirou,' he said, injecting a note of regret into his voice. 'It should come out in the wash though - that shirt should be good as new by tomorrow.'

 _But not today_ , went the unspoken caveat, trapped behind Oshitari's jerked-flat smirk.

He set the cup down on the floor, then caught hold of the hem of Jirou's shirt. 'Here,' he said smoothly. 'Take this off, and I'll go find you another while you clean up. In there,' he indicated, pointing to the nearest bathroom, which happened to be Atobe's. Well, one of Atobe's, anyway. The one with the strawberry honeysuckle-scented soap.

 

'Ah!' Jirou shouted, more out of dismay than pain, although the hot beverage did burn a bit. He stripped his shirt off at Oshitari's bidding and hurried to do exactly as he said - Oshitari was good at things like this, and for some reason he always seemed especially keen to help Jirou. Or maybe Jirou was the only one on the team who let him. Which didn't make much sense, since Oshitari was so _nice_ about it, but there wasn't time to dwell on that right now.

Jirou stumbled into Atobe's bathroom, turned on the ornate tap and waited for the water to get hot enough to steam, then squirted a handful of soap into his palm. Of course, the problem wasn't his hands, so Jirou wasted no time in smearing the soap all over his chest and, just for good measure, his back and arms as well. There was a mountain of fresh pressed washcloths next to the sink, and Jirou got one damp and managed to wipe himself completely clean of coffee and soap in a matter of seconds.

He bounded back out of the bathroom, unknowingly reeking of honeysuckle and also shimmering just a bit; Atobe's soap may or may not have had glitter in it.

'Oshitari?' Jirou called, looking from side to side nervously.

 

For once ignoring the less-than-pristine-ness of his own clothing, Oshitari left his and Gakuto's shared room with one of Gakuto's shirts in hand - it was deep blue and rather sheer, and quite frankly he thought it made Gakuto look like a very springy peacock, though he'd never tell _him_ that. Jirou, on the other hand, with his fairer coloring, would be much better suited by the intense shade of blue, and it helped that he was also taller than Gakuto and thus would also be much _less_ suited by the cut of the shirt.

Turning the corner, he caught sight of a shirtless, gleaming Jirou peering around in anxious concern, and took a moment to admire the tennis-cut definition of his muscles, the way his curls tangled casually at the nape of his neck, and then smiled and closed the distance between them, holding out the shirt. 'Here,' he said, spreading the fabric so Jirou could slip his arms into it. 'This should fit you.'

 

Jirou only paused a moment when he saw Oshitari holding out what was clearly one of Gakuto's shirts - well, it might not have been, but at any rate it certainly wasn't one of Oshitari's - before shrugging and allowing Oshitari to help him into it anyway. He really didn't have time to dawdle, and besides, it was a pretty nice shade of blue. It kind of reminded him of berries.

'It's a little small,' Jirou observed, although he didn't seem particularly concerned at the way the shirt rode up any time he moved his arms, revealing a flash of abdomen. _Sparkly_ abdomen.

'Huh,' Jirou said, blinking and turning his attention to his shimmering arms. 'I'm glittery.'

 

'Mm,' Oshitari remarked casually, buttoning the three middle buttons on the shirt and leaving the top and bottom buttons undone. The effect was _very_ nice, and he would have smirked to himself in triumph had he not been worried that Jirou might actually notice that.

'Atobe does have somewhat unusual taste in toiletries,' he added with an encouraging smile, carefully not mentioning the fact that Jirou smelt rather like a big ice cream cone. 'But you're clean, and...ah,' he added as one of Atobe's staff arrived carrying a positively _massive_ basket of gum in various forms and flavors. She offered it with a bow, and Oshitari took it and handed it to Jirou. 'There you go. I imagine there'll be something in there that Marui-kun will like, hmm?'

 

Most people who were _not_ Jirou might have suspected something fishy about the nature in which Oshitari was buttoning his shirt, but Jirou merely rocked back and forth on his heels, rather like an impatient child waiting for his mother to finish dressing him. When Oshitari's hands dropped away, Jirou just had time to flash him a smile before the basket of gum arrived and his mouth fell open in awe.

'Oh, awesome! Can I have the whole basket?' At the servant's polite nod, Jirou giggled and accepted it from Oshitari.

'Thank you!' he said to the servant's retreating form. He then turned to Oshitari, beaming and bouncing and glowing with energy, and promptly dropped the basket to the floor so he could attach himself like a koala to Oshitari's front.

'Thank you thank you thank you, you're my favorite and the best friend ever and beyond awesome and I love you!'

 

Oshitari _oof_ ed softly as Jirou pounced him, and then chuckled and wrapped his arms around Jirou in return, long fingers wandering over Jirou's back in a 'friendly' caress. (What? He wanted to help Jirou out, but he wasn't a _saint_.) 'You're welcome,' he purred, then let Jirou down gently and rumpled his hair. 'Now go on with you. I believe you have a certain Rikkai senior on tenterhooks.'

He flashed his slow grin, then gave Jirou a little push in the direction of the door.

And then glanced longingly at the bathroom. Now he _really_ needed a shower.

 

Jirou gave no indication he found Oshitari's caresses to be anything but platonic and friendly, merely squeezed him more tightly before dropping down to his feet and allowing himself to be pushed away. He grabbed the basket of gum and balanced it on top of his head, holding it in place with both arms as he scampered off in the direction the maid had gone.

'Thanks again!' he yelled over his shoulder. 'You're my favorite!'

It wasn't until Jirou was outside again and had Marui in his sights that he took a moment to wonder just what Oshitari had meant by 'tenterhooks.'

 

Marui was dozing on the bench, head filled with sugarplums. Or, more accurately, ice cream parfaits and enormous quantities of pocky. Jackal had been right - he was having a sugar crash. The inevitable result of a sugar crash was either grumpy!Marui or sleepy!Marui; this time around, Akutagawa-kun's antics had stolen his grump, but there was no knowing how long that would last.

Especially since every time he breathed in, he inhaled a mouthful of sakura petals.

 

Jirou was so pleased to find Marui still waiting for him on the bench that he didn't even stop to think maybe he should be gentle about waking him up. Instead, he dropped the basket of gum - which was so full it was actually pretty heavy - on the ground next to Marui's head and began to root through it.

'Okay!' he said brightly. 'So there's grape, lemon-lime, sour apple, strawberry-banana, blue raspberry, cherry, blueberry, peach, _lychee_ , wow, cool, I didn't know they made lychee gum, uh . . . and I think . . .' he paused to sniff one of the more conspicuous packages. 'Strawberry honeysuckle!' he announced.

After a moment, he frowned and sniffed his arm. 'Oh . . . sorry, I think that's actually me. _This_ one's mango.'

 

If Akutagawa-kun's chirpiness hadn't startled Marui out of his daydreams, the sudden intensification of said daydreams would have. The strawberry on his parfait suddenly smelt so much of strawberries that his mouth started watering, and he leaned in and tasted it before his conscious mind registered what Akutagawa-kun was saying.

And then he blushed, eyes going wide as he realized he had just licked another boy.

'....um. Doesn't....quite taste of strawberry honeysuckle,' he managed at last, and tried not to think about how for some reason it actually tasted better. Because that was just weird. And Marui Bunta was weird in many ways, but this particular way was maybe even a bit too weird for him.

 

Jirou didn't appear particularly embarrassed or unnerved by Marui's actions. In fact, it just made him grin stupidly. He tore open the package of strawberry gum and, without waiting for permission, popped a piece of it into Marui's mouth.

'Try that, then,' he suggested. 'Although . . . I didn't see any honeysuckle.' He dug a little deeper in the basket until his shoulders slumped in defeat. 'Do you want me to go back and look for some?' he asked.

 

Marui blinked, jaw already working instinctually to macerate the lovely cube of strawberry goodness, and then smiled, blush still brightening his cheeks but far too pleased to notice. This kid was actually willing to do that for him? Just because he thought Marui was cool? And he hadn't freaked out after being licked? (Marui was pretty sure everyone else he knew might've, except perhaps Jackal, who would have given him a Look, or Niou, who might well have licked back.)

It was already weird, but Akutagawa-kun was taking it all in stride, and that was intriguing to Marui, especially considering the way boys their age tended to be. He was just so...

...oblivious, maybe?

Marui shrugged, and blew an experimental bubble. 'Nah,' he said, and flipped around so his legs were hooked over the back of the bench and his head dangled off the seat, hair brushing the ground. 'You did good. No need for you to go running off again. Sit.'

 

Jirou grinned - by this point his face was kind of starting to hurt - and flopped down next to Marui triumphantly. He was content to watch Marui blow upside-down bubbles for much longer than most reasonable people would be able to manage, but he did finally begin to fidget, more out of anxiousness than boredom.

'Um,' he said, scuffing the dirt with his shoes and fixing his eyes on the ground. 'Do you think you would maybe -' he cut off and rubbed the back of his neck, then, in one rushed breath, blurted, 'would you want to play a game of tennis with me maybe?'

Finally getting up the courage to make eye contact, Jirou glanced over at Marui, adding with a shy smile, 'I promise you won't be bored.'

 

Marui was surprised not so much by the question, since naturally _everyone_ would want to play a game with someone as awesome as himself, but by the method of asking. It was almost like Akutagawa-kun was asking him for a _favor_ , rather than making some sort of cocky demand or treating it like it would be an honor for Marui. It was so unusual that Marui would have agreed anyway just out of pure intrigue. But something about the look on Akutagawa-kun's face roped him in, and he found himself nodding without a moment's hesitation.

'Sure,' he added after a moment, and smiled around his gum. 'Why not?'

 

'Really?' Jirou looked genuinely stunned that Marui had so readily accepted, but he didn't let it prevent him from scrambling off the bench and jumping in excitement.

'Wow! Okay . . . okay.' Jirou spun in a circle, apparently looking for something, and only stopped when he failed to find it after three spins. 'I need my racket!' he said. 'And uh, you need yours! Should we go to the courts?' He pointed in the direction of the courts Marui had just come from.

 

Marui flinched, and then twisted his head so he was looking back at the courts from underneath the bench - a very uncomfortable position, but less trouble than moving. It wasn't that he was rethinking playing Akutagawa-kun, only that he didn't really want to get yelled at by Sanada-fukubuchou for skipping out instead of watching the other games. But then, it looked like Sanada was in the process of playing Atobe at the moment, which meant he couldn't very well yell, could he.

Marui blew a thoughtful bubble. This was his best chance to get back without being noticed, since Sanada was occupied and he was willing to wager Yukimura-buchou was occupied with watching Sanada be occupied. The only person who might've been likely to rat him out was Kirihara, but he wasn't here this weekend, since he hadn't had to retire.

Why the hell not?

'Sure,' he said nonchalantly, and flipped over, albeit perhaps a bit less gracefully than one of the acrobats might've, but still smoothly enough to where he landed on his feet instead of his ass. 'Let's go.'

 

Jirou tried to walk at a normal pace at Marui's side for about six seconds before he couldn't contain himself anymore, and he grabbed Marui's wrist and started dragging him toward the courts.

'C'mon!' he said. 'We want to finish our game before - oh!' He dug his heels into the ground and came to an abrupt stop. 'The gum!'

Without another word, Jirou darted back to the bench, picked up the basket, and returned to Marui's side only to drag him toward the courts even more quickly.

 

'Akutagawa......kun.' Marui blinked as the other boy darted away and came back in the space of time it took him to say his name. He'd been going to suggest that they come back for the gum later, since he was pretty sure having a massive basket of gum would result in Jackal rolling his eyes, Niou teasing him about how he was just so sweet that of course he necessitated a gum altar, and Sanada threatening to confiscate it. But at that point it was too late, and he just shrugged, letting himself be dragged along.

Akutagawa-kun had nice fingers, he noted absently. They were long, and smoother than most tennis players', probably because he seemed to spend more time sleeping than playing. His hand was warm against Marui's wrist, and Marui gave it a sideways glance, somewhat amused by the shimmeriness.

Which was why his gaze lingered longer than was strictly polite. The amusement. Naturally.

 

Jirou didn't let go of Marui's wrist as he dragged him onto the free court farthest away from the one on which Atobe-buchou and Rikkai's Sanada were having a match, and seemed in fact to have quite forgotten he was still holding onto him as he found a safe corner next to a bench to stash the gum. He continued pulling Marui along as he searched for and shortly found his racket, then, straightening up and smiling at the racket as if it had just made an amusing joke, turned to face Marui again. It was then he realized he was still holding Marui's wrist, which he released hesitantly.

'Sorry,' he said. There was an awkward silence before he broke into another grin and bounced off over the net to the other side of the court.

'Rough or smooth?' he asked gleefully.

 

'Smooth,' Marui answered, and then almost bit his tongue instead of his gum when he realized he'd _purred_ instead of speaking. He knew the difference now after spending so much time around Yagyuu, and he felt the flush staining his cheeks as he swallowed and looked around. One of the second-years from Fudomine, the crazy one with the blue hair, was eyeing him curiously and muttering to himself under his breath, and Marui took a moment to wonder why the hell there were second-years here at all (probably because Fudomine was a bunch of losers who didn't have enough worthwhile seniors to bring along) before Akutagawa-kun spun the racket.

It landed with the J upside-down and backward, and Marui sighed. Of course it _would_ be rough, after he'd embarrassed himself saying the opposite. He shrugged, and then looked at his opponent expectantly.

 

Jirou only grinned wider at Marui's answer, and when Marui looked over at Fudomine Jirou did as well, although instead of glaring he beamed and waved. Every member of Fudomine present hastily looked in the opposite direction, however, so Jirou just shrugged and picked up his racket.

Jirou didn't give any warning before starting the game, and since he didn't have a signature phrase or sound to accompany his serves - he kind of wished he did sometimes, that would be pretty cool - Marui seemed entirely caught off-guard when he smashed the ball into a far corner and scored an immediate ace.

It was the first time since the beginning of the camp that Jirou was feeling a jolt of excitement as a result of a match, and he couldn't hold in a playful laugh at the expression on Marui's face.

'Sorry!' he called. 'Were you not ready?'

 

Marui blinked, and followed the path of the ball with his eyes, studying the corner of the service box where a faint imprint of the ball's bounce stood out against the green. He had been ready, but he hadn't been expecting... _that_.

'It's fine,' he called back, and shifted to the other side of the court, narrowing his eyes. If Yukimura-buchou was watching, he would have gotten laps and a long lecture later on, but Yukimura-buchou was still occupied with Sanada-fukubuchou, and now Marui was really ready.

This time, when Akutagawa-kun fired off a serve, Marui returned it with a flick of his arm, then ran toward the net in preparation for a volley. To his surprise, though, Akutagawa-kun was already there, and Marui had a split second to think _no one's wrist should bend that way_ before the ball was flying past him.

_Shit._

He wanted to take it easy on the kid - no point shattering his self-esteem so early on, after all, especially since he seemed so eager to answer Marui's beck and call - but maybe this was taking it too easy. Not good. He was going to get laughed at at this rate, and nobody laughed at Marui Bunta. Except Niou, but then, Niou had a serious death wish. That was the only explanation for the fact that he partnered Yagyuu.

 

This? This was _fun_. Jirou could barely keep his wrist from trembling it was so much fun, but he managed to force it steady enough to fire off another serve, which Marui returned with what appeared to be renewed purpose. It was _awesome_ watching Marui when he was determined, and Jirou wondered if maybe he was becoming a little distracted by the awesome-ness, because next thing he knew Marui had scored a point.

'THAT WAS SO COOL, MARUI-KUN!' Jirou nearly shrieked. 'I didn't even see the ball!' He hurried back to his service position and tugged another ball out of his pocket to serve, but before he could throw it he looked down and frowned at his shirt.

'Sorry,' he called distractedly. 'I think the buttons are off.'

He fiddled with the buttons on the front of his shirt with a look of absolute concentration until his shirt was wide open, then began to button them up again from the bottom. Weird that Oshitari of all people, who was immaculate about his own appearance, would slip up on something like buttons, but, Jirou supposed, he _was_ only human.

'Okay!' Jirou said, waving. Unbeknownst to him, the buttons were now even more askew, so unbalanced that on one side his abdomen was mostly exposed, on the other, a good portion of his chest. He raised his arm to serve again, and now it caused his shirt to ride up so far that his belly button showed.

'Huh,' Jirou said, looking down. 'That's not right, either.'

 

Marui cleared his throat, studiously looking at Akutagawa-kun's...no, that wasn't right. Collarbones didn't help, because they were rather more prominent than they should have been. Plus which they drew attention to the skewed line of his buttons, which then pulled Marui's attention down to his flat stomach, and the waistband of his trousers, and Marui was going to stop right there because it was just getting weird. Stuff like that was okay for Yukimura-buchou, because he was Yukimura-buchou and nobody dared question him about anything, plus which he was just bad-ass so he could slaughter you if you thought anything but the very best about him. It was also okay for Sanada-fukubuchou, because first of all, he was doing it with Yukimura-buchou, and then because Sanada-fukubuchou was pretty good at kicking ass in his own right. Marui on the other hand did not have that luxury.

Not that that was enough to keep him from staring.

Finally he fixed his gaze on the face of Akutagawa-kun's racquet. 'It looks fine,' he said impatiently. 'Just serve again.'

 

Jirou was pleased enough to have earned Marui's approval that he obeyed him instantly, serving swiftly enough that Marui just barely managed to hit it back. They volleyed for a good amount of time, Jirou's eagerness growing with every returned shot until Marui sent him a tricky return that required nearly bending over backwards and flicking his wrist at a most unnatural angle. Jirou did.

'Whoo!' Jirou shook his wrist out and got into position again. His heart was beating so fast he was actually starting to feel dizzy. If this were what tennis felt like all the time, Jirou would spend far less time napping and more time playing.

'This is more fun with you!' Jirou shouted, meaning every word of it, just before serving and taking the game.

 

Akutagawa-kun was _good_. Not like, good for a rich-bitch from Hyotei, but actually, honestly _good_. No _wonder_ he was always bored. Marui still didn't understand why he got so flaily-excited, but then, maybe that was just because it was him, and everyone knew to be awed by a tensai. Although his teammates didn't seem to have gotten that memo.

Akutagawa-kun could also really bend his wrists at very odd angles. He did so while he was waiting for Marui to serve, and Marui was suddenly hit with the thought that that could come in very handy for other reasons, and then winced as he served straight into the net. He hadn't done that since before he learned to chew gum on the court. Cursing under his breath, he took a moment to trot off to the sidelines and grab another piece of gum, and then returned, determined to take the next game back.

Which he did, but Akutagawa-kun made him work for it. Marui ran the back of his wrist across his forehead as they changed courts, and wondered why this kid hadn't played in the quarterfinals against Seigaku. Had he done so, Hyotei might have been the ones facing Rikkai in the finals.

 _Where were they hiding you?_ he thought as Akutagawa-kun took the next game back from him, and paused on the sidelines to shuck his wristbands, ignoring Niou's taunts as he got ready to serve again.

 

This far into a match, Jirou was usually ready to go to sleep. For the next four hours, or six, or maybe just until next practice.

He wasn't sleepy at all this time. This time, he felt so awake it was almost like his limbs were electrically charged, sending sparks to his hands and wrists every time he sent a shot toward Marui's side of the court. The last time he'd felt even remotely this alive, it was against Seigaku's Fuji, and even that game hadn't pushed him to this level of enthusiasm, where every fiber in his being was aching, begging to be invested in nothing but tennis. It probably had something to do with the fact that Fuji hadn't seemed particularly invested in their game, whereas Marui seemed almost as into it as Jirou was.

Then again, it could have also been just because Marui was that unbearably _awesome_.

Jirou actually had to stop and do a once-over of the game so far in his head when he realized they had reached match point in his favor, trying to fight back a little surge of despair at the thought. He didn't want the match to end. Ever. But if he just didn't serve, Marui would probably get mad. Sighing inwardly, he sent the ball into Marui's court and prepared himself for the return.

 

Marui was losing.

It wasn't like it was the first time. Yukimura-buchou trounced him on a regular basis, especially now that he was allowed to play again after such a long hiatus - he liked to trounce _everyone_ as often as possible, as if trying to remind himself that he could. Sanada-fukubuchou trounced him too, and never even seemed pleased about it. Yanagi-kun liked to trounce him too, cruelly, and sometimes Yagyuu did as well, though Marui did beat him occasionally. But aside from that, he'd never been this soundly trounced in a singles match before, and he wasn't sure if he felt more outraged or just shocked in general. He had never expected Akutagawa-kun to be this good, nor had he expected to be pushed this hard, which was shocking in its own right, but what was even more shocking was that he was _enjoying_ himself.

Marui hated to lose, and yet he was having the time of his life. He'd never seen anyone play with so much genuine enthusiasm for the game. Rikkai was all about winning, and while there was satisfaction and very occasionally pleasure in a win, usually it was just realization of an inevitability, and there wasn't much pleasure to be gleaned from that. But this...Akutagawa-kun looked about ready to fly out of his skin, and Marui might have expected that of the crazy redhead from Seigaku perhaps, or those weirdoes from Rokkaku, or that one shrimp from Shitenhouji (and what the hell was it about redheads, or red in general for that matter? it really made Marui consider dyeing his hair), but not from a Hyotei player, especially not one who spent most of his time bored out of his mind.

He was going to take this point. He was going to take this point. He was _going_ to take this _point_.

Akutagawa-kun volleyed, a slick little move that Marui had used himself several times, and he dove for it, feeling alive, excited, like he could fly, and grinned in triumph as he caught up to it, the ball impacting his sweet spot dead centre and sending it up, over Akutagawa-kun's head, gleaming almost like gold in the bright sunlight...

'Out!'

 

It was silent for a good few seconds as Jirou and Marui both stared at the spot the ball had hit just before rolling away to rest next to the basket of gum. Jirou noticed with no small amount of surprise that most of the players on surrounding courts were watching their game now, likely had been for some time, and it was right then that that electric spark in Jirou's body _ruptured_ and he almost toppled over to crash into the net. Instead, he grabbed hold of it, propelled himself over the top, and launched himself directly onto Marui.

'That was awesome awesome awesome _awesome_ absolutely the best game ever you were so _cool_ oh my _God_!' He wrapped his legs more tightly around Marui's waist and buried his hands in the bright pink hair, rubbing so hard it was just shy of being a noogie.

'Let's play again!' Jirou chirped.

 

Marui had lost.

Marui had lost a singles game against a Hyotei player who spent most of his time asleep on the bench.

Marui had lost in front of his captain, his vice-captain, his whole team, and three rival schools.

And yet, Marui was _happy_.

Clearly the world was coming to an end.

'Jirou,' said a voice from the sidelines, and Marui looked up through the wild mess of curls and the enthusiastic flailing of Akutagawa-kun's hands and saw that tall, dark-haired player from Hyotei, the one who played doubles sometimes, watching them, a small smirk twisting his lips. 'Maybe you should let Marui-kun eat something before you go at it again? You shouldn't exhaust him completely if you're hoping for another round.'

Marui couldn't explain why he was blushing, only that he'd never been quite so glad of the fact that his hair covered his face so nicely

 

Jirou pouted, but obediently disentangled himself from Marui, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking at the ground.

'I guess,' he agreed sullenly. His head then snapped up and, completely oblivious to Marui's blush, he grabbed the hem of shirt and asked, wide-eyed and pleading, 'Will you play me again later? Please?'

Oshitari was calling his name again, so Jirou began to walk backwards toward the side where most of Hyotei had gathered.

'Yes? Please?'

 

'All right,' Marui agreed dazedly, and blinked as Akutagawa-kun's face lit right back up in delight. He was the most bipolar person Marui had _ever_ met. He was the most a lot of things Marui had ever met though, and he wondered at the fact that he'd never noticed him before. Clearly he was getting sloppy in his old age.

Especially since he could have sworn a lot of those moves were suspiciously similar to his.

'Puri!' Niou chirped at him, flinging an arm around his shoulders and continuing the head-rubbing where Akutagawa-kun had left off. Marui growled and jabbed an elbow into Niou's solar plexus, but Niou just gave a dramatic sigh.

'Ah,' he said, tightening his arm until Marui's face started to go red again. 'Young love.'

Marui turned his head, sweet smile in place, and promptly spat his strawberry gum into Niou's hair.

 


	2. Strawberry Honeysuckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marui is sugar-crashy, Jirou sleeps a lot and then bounces on Marui a lot more, and Oshitari spills coffee. Sneakily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written as a collaboration between myself and [Anjenue](http://anjenue.livejournal.com) in 2008. <3 RPG-style format, so be warned, lots of POV changes.

Jirou was on the bench again, but he wasn't sleeping. This was unusual, as it typically took about thirty seconds of lying down - or sitting, or, for that matter, standing - in the same position before he was dozing off. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady pattern, but his mind was whirring far too fast for him to slip into unconsciousness. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about yesterday's match and how much fun it had been since the second it ended. Nor had he been able to stop talking about it to anyone who would listen, as his teammates had not-so-kindly pointed out. Except for Oshitari, anyway. He'd seemed entirely interested in everything Jirou had to say about Marui and their match, which just reinforced the fact that he was definitely Jirou's favorite.

Sighing, Jirou rolled over on the bench so he was lying on his side, head cushioned on his hands. After waking up at precisely six that morning, Jirou had showered, dressed, and made his way down to the bench where he'd met Marui as quickly as possible. Three and a half hours later, he was still there, and the rumbling of his breakfast-less stomach along with the distinct lack of Marui was beginning to make him wonder if it had been a bad idea.

Marui rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before stuffing the rest of the danish into his mouth, and then licking his fingers. He was exhausted, seeing as he hadn't been able to get to sleep until the sky was already starting to get light. Someone very cruel (and Marui was willing to bet it had been Yukimura-buchou) had decided that it would be a good idea for Marui and Niou to room together, and Niou had spent the better part of the evening grilling him for details on why the match had happened, why Marui was looking so out-of-sorts, whether Marui had a 'cruuuuush', and all of the things that Niou tended to be so observant about, irritatingly enough. Niou had finally fallen asleep well past midnight, but Marui hadn't been able to follow, thoughts too stirred up by the conversation. Why _was_ he so out-of-sorts? It wasn't the first time he'd played Akutagawa-kun, after all, as Niou had so kindly reminded him...but then again, it had been more than two years, and Akutagawa-kun had improved by leaps and bounds since then. He didn't even remember playing him before, really, but now, he was having a hard time forgetting.

So hard, in fact, that he'd woken up hard, after some very embarrassing dreams in which 'tennis racquet' and 'balls' took on a whole new meaning, and, horrified, he'd been relegated to the shower, where he'd tried (with no luck) to freeze it away, and then had finally given up and decided that hey, he was a teenage boy and stiff breezes got him hard, so what was the big deal?

Granted, stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep from saying Akutagawa-kun's name as he came was rather removed from 'stiff breeze', but that was neither here nor there.

Sighing, he boosted his tennis bag higher up his shoulder and switched the plate of danishes from one hand to the other. One of the Hyotei players, the tall, smirky one again, had shoved it at him on his way out the door, telling him he'd 'need his strength' (and why he was obsessed with that, Marui had no idea), but his mouth had watered at the sight, and the other boy hadn't stuck around long enough for Marui to refuse it, so here he was, carrying a massive plate of Western-style pastries, headed out to play a match with a boy he'd never thought about before but now couldn't seem to _stop_ thinking about.

This was turning out to be a very weird week.

Someone who spent as much time with his eyes closed as Jirou couldn't help but develop particularly keen other senses, and when he first picked up the scent of a pastry riding on the breeze, he sat up before his eyes were even open, almost as if rising from the dead. When his eyes at last did open, however, they lit upon not just pastries, but _Marui_ with pastries, and the sight was enough to split his face into an eager grin and erase all memory of a morning spent in fitful waiting.

'Morning!' Jirou called, waving to catch Marui's attention, and he hurried over to his side, eyes sliding from Marui's face, which looked uncharacteristically weary, to the plate he was carrying.

'Um,' said Jirou after a pause. 'Do you think I could have one of those?' He was beginning to seriously doubt he could make it through a match without eating something first.

Marui managed a smile, and held the plate out to him. 'Sure,' he said, catching himself before he added 'kid' onto the end, because that was just...creepy. 'Your friend gave them to me - I guess he knew you'd be out here.'

He squinted at Akutagawa-kun, tipping his head to the side. 'How long _have_ you been out here anyway?' he asked after a moment. 'You don't really strike me as a morning person.'

Jirou didn't hesitate to snatch one of the pastries off of Marui's plate, ravenously devouring it with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than strictly necessary.

'My friend? Oshitari-kun?' Jirou asked through a mouthful of pastry. At Marui's nod, he smiled. 'Yeah, he's awesome. He helped me find gum for you yesterday and then when he spilled coffee on me he helped me find a bathroom and new clothes.'

Jirou continued to ramble on about Oshitari's various good traits as they slowly headed toward the tennis courts, only pausing to suck his fingers clean of pastry glaze.

'He said something about 'tenterhooks,'' Jirou said suddenly, more to himself than Marui. 'I still need to ask him what he meant by that. . . .'

Marui choked on a mouthful of apple danish, and ended up spitting it out onto the blossom-scattered grass, this time on his own.

 _Smooth, Marui_ , he told himself with a scowl, and rubbed his throat, head spinning and cheeks probably very flushed.

'Sorry,' he said hoarsely, offering Akutagawa-kun a wan smile. So _that_ was Oshitari-kun. Yanagi had told him something about his propensity for meddling - how Oshitari had been involved in...whatever was going on between Yanagi and Seigaku's Inui-kun, though, Marui had no idea. He hadn't really wanted to know, any more than he wanted to know what was up with Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-fukubuchou, or...well, Niou and Yagyuu, but he'd _seen_ what they were up to, so it wasn't a question of wanting one way or the other.

So. Oshitari was trying to... But why would he think that... And what did he hope to...

Marui cast a sidelong glance at Akutagawa-kun, and then hastily tore his gaze away as he watched the other boy sucking on his finger. His lips were sticky-sweet and glistening, and Marui had to fight not to lean in and...

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he thought, shaking his head. He wasn't...that way. He liked girls. Or at least, he thought he liked girls. He hadn't really given it that much thought. He hadn't had time to, what with the way Yukimura-buchou worked them. Of course, that hadn't stopped Jackal from...but then, Jackal didn't even need to try - he had girls fawning over him at every turn. But still, he liked girls well enough. There was even that one in his history class, with the short hair and the cute smile and those pretty hands, oh, what was her name....

Great. Marui couldn't even remember the name of his supposed crush. In fact, the more he tried to remember her, the more his brain decided to superimpose images of long fingers wrapped around the handle of a racquet, a gleeful grin, wild wind-tousled hair....

Marui's eyes widened.

'Oh, hell,' he muttered under his breath, and stuffed another pastry into his mouth before he could embarrass himself. Epiphanies like that were not meant to be said out loud.

Jirou peeked over at Marui curiously, who suddenly looked as if he had swallowed something very sour, despite shoving almost an entire pastry into his mouth. His movements seemed stiff and a little awkward, like he had forgotten how to walk right, and Jirou couldn't help but wonder if most people choked this often.

'Are you okay?' he asked with great concern. Jirou stopped walking as a sudden realization hit him, and he grabbed Marui's shoulders to stop him as well.

It made perfect sense, really. Their game yesterday had been really vigorous, and while Jirou was feeling relatively well-rested today, he averaged about twelve hours of sleep a night, not even counting naps. Marui must've been feeling the after-affects of their game the other day, and he still was willing to play Jirou, without even mentioning a word about it!

'Do you need a massage before we play?' Jirou offered, with no explanation as to why he clearly thought this was the best choice of action. 'Oshitari-kun says I'm really good at them,' he added.

Marui would have choked again, but his body hated predictability as much as he did. Instead, his face went white, and then slowly suffused with color again as he fought to swallow the macerated mouthful of pastry.

'Um,' he said, and coughed lightly. 'I uh...what?'

'You need a massage,' Jirou decided for him with a nod, tugging Marui over to a bench and sitting him down on it. He slipped behind him and put a hand on either of Marui's shoulders before bending down so his mouth was uncomfortably close to Marui's ear.

'Do you like them soft or hard?' he said in what managed to remain an entirely innocent voice.

Oh, this wasn't fair. This was just not fair at _all_.

Marui didn't understand why Yanagi was so insistent _Oshitari_ was the one to steer clear of - Akutagawa-kun was positively _evil_. That innocent act _had_ to be an act - no _way_ anyone could be this suggestive without--

Oh. He remembered Kirihara and winced.

What the hell was it with the curly-haired ones?

'Um,' he said, intelligently. 'I don't...really know? I've never...'

Jirou began working the muscles in Marui's shoulder, his fingers rough to the point of being almost painful but clearly practiced in what they were doing.

'Really?' he asked conversationally. 'You don't do this for each other on your team?'

His hands trailed away from Marui's shoulders further down his back, still kneading harshly.

'Tell me if it hurts too much,' he said. 'And relax a little. You're really tense.'

Marui gave a harsh bark of laughter, trying to imagine his teammates giving each other back rubs. Sanada-fukubuchou would leave everyone black and blue for the rest of the week, as, he was sure, would Yagyuu. Jackal would keep his touches to a minimum and would end up more tense than he'd started out. Kirihara would wiggle around like crazy and quite possibly end up biting someone if he got too enthused. Niou would resort to tickling. Yanagi would sit off on the sidelines observing with that damn half-smile of his, taking copious mental notes. And Yukimura-buchou...

Marui shuddered. He didn't want to think about what Yukimura-buchou would do.

'We're um, not really the...touchy-feely type,' he said, and then bit his tongue at how breathy his voice sounded. At least it wasn't stiff, he thought, and then grimaced as he realized that at this rate, another part of him _would_ be.

'Oh,' Jirou said, a little sadly, as if he personally thought this to be a great shame.

'Lean forward,' he instructed, and his hands slipped even lower, soothing the muscles in Marui's lower back just above the waistband of his pants. He remained there for a while, then worked back up again, lapsing into silence. One of his hands started on Marui's neck, more gentle than the one still forcefully working his shoulder.

'Anywhere else need work?' he asked pleasantly.

'Mmh?'

Marui was finally starting to relax, even though he was all too aware of the effects Akutagawa-kun's...attentions were having on him. But it was impossible to stay tense with those long fingers moving over his back like that, soothing muscles that had probably been tense since they'd lost at Nationals, possibly longer than that. And Akutagawa-kun was leaning over his shoulder, and he smelt of soap and sunshine, and Marui felt himself drifting.

'Ummmmh,' he said after a long moment. 'You're...you're doing fine....'

Jirou's hands seemed to slow down for the briefest of moments, and then they resumed their pace as if the pause had never occurred, although anyone accustomed to his body language would have noticed a quickening of breath and a slight tense of the shoulders.

'I'll keep going, then,' he said, mouth close to Marui's ear again, and he didn't really know why he all of a sudden needed to get closer, but something was telling him the flush on Marui's cheeks had less to do with the sun than he'd initially thought, at the same time something else was telling him that happy squirmy feeling in his stomach maybe had less to do with Marui being awesome at tennis and more to do with just plain _Marui_.

'You're blushing,' Jirou said, almost unaware he was saying it, and then, without allowing himself a second thought, he pressed his lips to the side of Marui's neck.

Marui stiffened again, in more ways than one, and sucked in a sharp breath at the press of pillowy lips to that sensitive spot on his neck and how the hell was Akutagawa-kun so good at finding something he only knew about because Niou was a fucking bastard? A shiver danced up his spine, and he fisted his hands in his lap, completely unaware that he was pulverizing a poor innocent cinnamon twist.

'Is this...' He paused to take in a breath, not even sure where the words were coming from. 'Is this part of the massage ritual? Because if it is I think I might want to transfer.'

His blush darkened noticeably enough that he could feel it doing so, but he didn't retract his words, or do anything to move away from Akutagawa-kun's mouth, despite that voice in his head that was screaming _normalcy! remember normalcy!_

Oh well. It had never been very convincing anyway.

There had been a terrible second when Marui had frozen at the touch of Jirou's lips and Jirou was sure he would jump away, scandalized, and he would yell at Jirou and tell him he was crazy and then walk away and never talk to him or play tennis with him again.

Then Jirou felt him sort of . . . well, for lack of a better word, _melting_ against his mouth, and he figured he'd probably done pretty okay.

'Mmm,' Jirou said against Marui's neck, and he found he really didn't have much control over his body anymore so he started sucking, probably a little too hard, at the place he'd just kissed.

'No, this part is just for you,' he said hotly against Marui's skin. Then, because he was sort of embarrassed and felt a little exposed but most of all, he really, really wanted to keep going, he bit down on Marui's neck sharply.

Marui's body jerked and he let out a sound that was more animal than human at the sudden sharp pain emanating from his neck. If anyone else had done that to him (namely Niou or Kirihara), he would have spun around and demanded an explanation, but all his body was willing to let him do this time was to tip his head to the side, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep him from making another embarrassing noise.

Oddly, he found himself wanting to ask _why me?_ even though he thought the answer was pretty well obvious, since he was a genius and all, but for some reason, that explanation wasn't going to fly in this case, at least not as far as he was concerned. After all, he'd been beaten hollow by Akutagawa-kun the previous day, so that meant Akutagawa-kun had to be a genius too, right? And then there was all that business with the dreams, and those weird thoughts he hadn't been able to get out of his head, not to mention the fact that he was, inexplicably, _enjoying_ being gnawed on like he was breakfast.

'It's...it's because I'm so sweet, isn't it?' he gasped, laughter threaded through his tone, though whether it was because he actually found it funny or because he was too nervous to say it seriously, he had no idea.

Jirou frowned a little, not quite following what Marui was saying, although that was probably less because Marui wasn't making sense and more because there was a buzzing in his head that made ordinary thought nearly impossible. The only thing it seemed capable of telling him with crystal clarity was that he needed to get closer to Marui, _now_ , and Jirou was nothing if not obedient. His mouth left Marui's neck as he climbed over the back of the bench and moved to straddle Marui's lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and looking down at him with drowsy eyes.

'No,' he said, pressing their bodies as close together as possible, bending his head so their noses brushed. 'That's just an added bonus.'

Marui meant to say something about how boys didn't just sit in each other's laps, unless they were Kirihara, and even then it was a bad idea because he was so wriggly that it was bound to cause, uh, problems, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a low, thready, ragged, completely unrecognizable-as-his moan.

He felt himself flushing, _again_ , but his hands had already found Akutagawa-kun's back, fingers tracing the prominent bumps of his spine through the thin fabric of his jersey, and he had no fucking clue what they were doing, but his hormones were doing an awfully good job of improvising.

Akutagawa-kun's mouth was still sticky, and Marui could smell the hint of cherries from the danish he'd eaten, and his mouth _looked_ rather like a cherry, glistening and very red and so inviting, and _oh hell_ thought Marui as he tilted his head and dove in, smushing their noses together and managing to connect with a click of teeth, but then he'd never done this before, and tensai-ness didn't necessarily extend to _every_ thing.

Jirou squirmed a little at Marui's moan, not expecting the sound to have such a violent effect on him but not really complaining, either. The friction between their bodies was good, _especially_ where Jirou's crotch was pressed up against Marui's stomach. He tried not to humiliate himself too much by wriggling, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back - especially when _Marui_ leaned forward to press _his_ lips against Jirou's. It was then Jirou stopped to wonder if Marui might actually somehow want this as badly as he did.

Jirou wanted to taste more of Marui, wanted the hot blissful feeling spreading from his stomach throughout his entire body to never go away, so he darted his tongue out across Marui's lips and then sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and arched his back to accommodate Marui's hands. One of Marui's hands was sticky against his skin, and after losing himself in the feel of their connected mouths for a few seconds, he took hold of Marui's hand by the wrist and let their lips fall apart.

'You're all sticky,' Jirou said in a voice he didn't know he possessed, and then his tongue was dragging up the sweet glazed palm of Marui's hand.

A small voice in the back of Jirou's head was shouting at him _too much, too fast, stop, you're going to scare him away for good_ , but Jirou's heart was pounding and his shorts were tight and if this was the only chance he was going to get, he was going to make it _good_ , damn it.

Oh _god_ , so that tongue definitely had to be classified as a lethal weapon, Marui thought dazedly, eyes rolling back in his head and teeth sinking hard into his lip, which still tasted vaguely of cherry and something unfamiliar that he guessed must have been Akutagawa-kun. He'd never really considered that kissing someone would taste like them, but then he'd never actually wondered if different people tasted differently, although really he should have considering how much time he spent thinking about the taste of things in general, but it was definitely hitting him now, and he found himself wondering if Akutagawa-kun tasted the same _everywhere_ or if he had, like, zones or something, like a scoop of rainbow sherbet.

And then those lips were wrapping around his finger, sliding slick and hot and tight down to the base, and it was all Marui could do not to embarrass himself very thoroughly.

'Am I?' he asked, barely conscious of what he was saying, just knowing that he had to keep talking or else things were going to get even stickier. 'Oh. Well.'

This intelligent statement divulged, he shifted his hips uncomfortably, his skin hypersensitive and every slat of the bench pressed against the backs of his thighs unusually prominent, but said hip-shifting made him aware of a fact he'd not noticed until that point.

'You're hard,' he blurted, as though it was just a continuation of his previous thought, and then bit his lip, dropping his gaze. Those weren't things you were supposed to mention about other boys, he knew - it was part of the Code, that you didn't embarrass each other because they'd get you back and that was the last thing you wanted when you were fighting half-mast all damn day, but then again, he didn't really think that applied when the hardness was the whole _point_.

Jirou was absolutely intent on sucking every one of Marui's fingers and every inch of his hand clean, which he did with as much slow deliberation as he could stand. At the way Marui's breath hitched and his eyes fluttered closed, he figured Marui was pretty damn intent on _being_ licked clean, and Jirou felt a renewed burst of confidence in what they were doing. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he finally buckled and kissed Marui's neck, but finding Marui completely on board with . . . whatever this was was rather more than he had hoped for. His mouth quirked into a smile against Marui's palm, and when Marui shifted his hips so they were somehow even closer together and stated what was painfully obvious, he couldn't hold back a breathy, satisfied laugh.

'I know,' Jirou said, and he abandoned Marui's hand, which was now sufficiently clean of pastry glaze, to return to his mouth. He knew how sloppy and inexpert their kisses were, but he just couldn't make himself care, because they were so enthusiastic and wet and _good_ and they sent a tingling feeling straight down his spine to his groin, a sensation he was pretty confident Marui was sharing, if their mingled gasps were any indication.

Jirou's head was spinning, but it didn't stop him from making the sudden rash decision to slip a hand under Marui's ass and line their hips up just right, clutching him more tightly and letting out a hiss of breath when their cocks rode up against each other.

'You are, too,' he said, although the observation lost some of its gentle mockery when it was followed immediately by a shuddering groan. This felt _way_ too good to be allowed.

Any answer Marui might have had to Akutagawa-kun's statement dissolved in the face of his moan, which rumbled up from the depths of his chest and spilled into Akutagawa-kun's mouth as he kissed him again, hard, sucking on his tongue and scraping his teeth across the wriggling muscle with a shiver of delight. He hadn't thought it possible, but this felt better than playing tennis, better than a sugar rush, even better than _winning_ , and _that_ was saying a lot. But it was hardly a comparison, not when all of those things went up against the warm weight of a wriggling boy in his lap and the delicious friction that was only getting _better_ as Marui wrapped his arms around Akutagawa-kun's back and slid his hands down his spine to curve against his ass, pulling their hips even _closer_ together.

'Good,' he gasped, whether in answer to something Akutagawa-kun had said or just because it _was_ , he wasn't quite sure, but then he buried his face against the stretch of Akutagawa-kun's throat and bit down on the tempting peaches-and-cream skin, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Jirou whimpered at the sensation of Marui's teeth on his neck, not because it hurt so much as it _burned_ , sending wave after wave of heat flooding from Jirou's shoulder through the rest of his body. His hips rocked forward in time with the waves, rubbing hard against Marui and _God_ that felt so damn perfect, and he tilted his head to allow better access to his neck, moaning the second Marui's teeth moved away, 'Do that again.'

Marui didn't have to be asked twice. Although the gum and cake and all of that was really to help his stamina, it killed two birds with one stone, since he had a horrible oral fixation, and used to bite his lips bloody during games instead. But now, being presented with all that smooth skin to lick and suck and bite and _taste_ , he was pretty sure he was in heaven. Granted, it'd be the sort of heaven for perverts and deviants and generally weird people, but he didn't much care about that.

Tipping his head to the side, he dragged the flat of his tongue up the column of Akutagawa-kun's neck, reveling in the salty-fresh flavor and smooth softness, before opening his mouth wide and biting down until he felt Akutagawa-kun start to shake.

'Nnnnngh,' Jirou managed, eyes clenching shut as he bit down on his own lip and leaned his head back. This felt good, and their hips still definitely felt good, but he thought there were probably ways to get even closer, to feel even better, so the second Marui paused in his ministrations on Jirou's neck - ministrations that Jirou was sure would leave marks, and he couldn't have been happier about it - he shifted out of Marui's lap and put a hand to his chest, pushing until Marui was lying flat on the bench and he could straddle him once again.

It only took a few seconds of readjusting before Jirou figured out a better way to press their hips together, clutching at Marui's ass once more and wriggling to encourage him to wrap his legs around Jirou's waist. Their cocks connected through cloth, and there, _that_ was what he'd been trying to do. He didn't want to lose it just yet, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back from simply tearing all of Marui's clothes off and ravishing him there where anyone could see.

Jirou leaned forward so his forehead was resting against Marui's collarbone, breathing erratically against his skin.

'You're sure about this?' Jirou asked softly, finally realizing that he wouldn't be able to go through with it if he didn't know for sure.

Okay, so apparently when Akutagawa-kun woke up, he _really_ woke up. Marui whimpered and wriggled, digging his heels into Akutagawa-kun's back and fisting his hands in his jersey, arching his back up off the bench. He had no idea at all what he was doing, hadn't really thought about doing this much at all (what knowledge he had of sex came from porn he'd borrowed from Niou, and we all know how educational _that_ sort of porn is), but it felt so fucking good that modesty, nervousness, and/or propriety had all flown right out the window.

'If you stop,' he ground out, sliding a hand up into Akutagawa-kun's hair and pulling, 'I will kill you.'

This was all the reassurance Jirou needed. Fighting back an embarrassingly cheery grin, he covered Marui's mouth with his own, kissing him with a bruising, dizzying fervor and making eager noises against his tongue. His right hand abandoned Marui's ass to slide underneath his shirt and up his chest, where he thumbed one of Marui's hardening nipples. Jirou wasn't sure where he was getting the inspiration for this; he'd had a few sloppy make-out sessions with a couple other members of the tennis club, sure, but that was just what you _did_ if you went to Hyotei, and he'd never delved beyond casual, over-the-shirt groping. With Marui, though, it was like a million live wires were lashing out in his head, and he had to put his hands, his mouth, his tongue fucking _everywhere_ or he would go completely berserk.

Jirou tugged against Marui's hand in his hair, not because he wanted him to let go but because the sharp pull felt really, really good, and he was suddenly flooded with inspiration again, pushing up Marui's shirt to expose his stomach and most of his chest. He looked down on Marui's toned, glistening, absolutely flawless midriff, and with a choking noise he bent over, making a trail with his tongue that started just above the belly button and didn't stop until he'd reached Marui's sternum. All this touching and licking was getting in the way of what had to be the ultimate goal - namely, lining their hips up again and rubbing together some more, because that just seemed like it had been going somewhere - but the buildup, Jirou knew instinctively, was so, so worth it.

Not only was he possessed of an evil weapon, but he was a fucking _tease_. Marui groaned, arching up again and presenting his skin for easier access, fingers curving until his nails dug into Akutagawa-kun's shoulders and his hips pressed up against that firm chest. The other hand tugged at Akutagawa-kun's hair, trying to get him to move up, faster, more, because Marui couldn't find the words he wanted and besides which this worked better anyway, especially with the way it made Akutagawa-kun's eyes roll back in his head and little hitched whines spill from his throat. He wouldn't've taken Akutagawa-kun as the type to enjoy violence, and he thought maybe instead of transferring to Hyotei, Akutagawa-kun could come join Rikkai.

'Mmgh,' he pleaded eloquently, and wrapped his leg tighter around Akutagawa-kun's torso, pressing his heel against the small of his back and nudging it upward suggestively. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the licking, and the touching, and the way Akutagawa-kun was practically _purring_ as he explored his body, but he wasn't really a paragon of patience, and he'd been craving this since _yesterday_ , even if he hadn't realized it at the time.

'Mmgh,' Jirou agreed, and, deciding there had been quite enough time wasted with activities that, while enjoyable, did not deal directly with getting off, he took a firm hold on Marui's hips and forced them up to meet his own with a harsh jerk. The feel of Marui's feet digging into his back desperately was beginning to drive him a little insane, and he finally dropped his hands - Marui's hips weren't going _anywhere_ \- to rest on either side of Marui's body on the bench, giving him much better leverage for grinding forward.

'Oh, God,' Jirou hissed, because Marui's legs just kept tightening around him and his back kept arching off the bench, and his shirt was still pushed up practically to his chin, baring his chest and making this probably the sexiest thing Jirou had ever seen or even _imagined_. It was too tempting for him to keep his mouth away any longer, so he dipped back down, still thrusting persistently, and began to suck on one of Marui's nipples, feeling just a little bit self-satisfied to discover he could actually accomplish both at once.

This wasn't fair, Marui thought through a haze of lust and want and general _nnngh_. It wasn't fair that Akutagawa-kun totally had the upper hand, as it were, and that all Marui could manage to do was cling to him and make a lot of noise. Then again, none of that noise involved _complaining_ , so maybe unfairness wasn't such a bad thing after all.

'N-next time,' he gasped out, tugging at Akutagawa-kun's hair again in an _I-don't-really-know-what-I'm-saying-but-go-with-it_ sort of way, 'I'm on top.'

Jirou gasped then, too, although whether this was because of the increasing urgency in their movements, the way their cocks kept riding against each other harder and faster, the feel of his hair tangled between Marui's fingers, or Marui's barely coherent words, Jirou couldn't say. His best guess was a little bit of all of the above, but as good as Marui's body felt beneath his, as hot and sweet as that friction was, the words _Next time_ were what began repeating themselves over and over in his entirely overwhelmed head. They were causing his chest to suffuse with a warmth that had very little to do with what was going on below the waist, although it was definitely getting warmer down there, too.

'Next time,' Jirou said, a breathy agreement, and with a final, choking groan, he bit down on the skin just below Marui's collarbone and came, continuing to rock his hips as wave after wave of aftershock shuddered through him. Some tiny remaining voice of reason reminded him that Marui wasn't through yet, and as soon as he had enough energy to lift himself up again he pressed his thigh up against Marui's still painfully hard cock, driving it forward with what he hoped was adequate replacement for his own hardness. He rather wanted to replace it with his _hand_ , but he was still fighting a small, irrational fear that one wrong move would send Marui sprinting in the opposite direction, and he couldn't handle that, not now, not after that gasped, heartfelt promise of _next time_.

Marui had never really thought about what it would feel like to be the cause of another boy's...well, another boy doing _that_. In his wanking fantasies, it had always been a girl, breathy and shrill and tiny, writhing beneath him. Sometimes the girl had looked sort of like Yukimura-buchou, but that was past the point. But this was so absolutely different from all of that, the solid weight of another boy shuddering atop him, hips snapping down against his, and the way it felt, the way he could actually feel... _it_ , and it thrilled him beyond belief. The sensation of _I did that_ was beyond compare, and it made heat flood the pit of Marui's belly, his muscles going tight and a whine escaping his throat, and then Akutagawa-kun's thigh was _there_ and Marui was clutching at him and groaning as the back of his head hit the bench and his back arched up off the slats and he came hard, suffused with warmth and pleasure and triumph and something very like fondness that would have terrified him otherwise but right now just felt _right_.

Jirou barely gave Marui enough time to finish writhing against his thigh before he collapsed on top of him, twining their legs together and pressing a few feverish, lingering kisses to his chest and neck. Marui was warm and his breath was coming in harsh gasps and they were both covered in sweat and uncomfortably sticky, and Jirou was happier than he could remember ever feeling in his entire life, _ever_. He traced the lines of Marui's abdomen lazily, fighting the urge to follow his fingers with his lips, because they'd just _done_ that and they probably both needed a break.

He sighed against Marui's chest, trying to ignore a sudden surge of nervousness. He didn't know the protocol for bringing up things exclaimed in the heat of passion, but he had to know what Marui wanted, and he had to know _now_.

'Next time?' he repeated, quietly, hand still trailing up and down Marui's stomach and heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Marui blushed, not that it was visible considering how flushed he was, but in any case he was embarrassed, wondering whether that had been too presumptuous of him. He couldn't see Akutagawa-kun's face really - his vision was still too blurred for that - and he didn't know enough about him to glean his thoughts from the tone of his voice. But then, he was Marui Bunta, and he wasn't about to chicken out _now_.

'Yeah,' he said, almost daring Akutagawa-kun to say something to the contrary, but at the same time dreading that he might. 'Next time.'

Jirou felt all his anxiousness melt away in the space of a few seconds, and he raised himself up on his elbows to look down at Marui, eyes gleaming to match his familiar smile.

'Yeah?' he said, feeling the inexplicable urge to have it confirmed once more. At Marui's slightly puzzled nod, Jirou's smile grew even wider.

'Um,' he said, trying to hide his flush, which was deepening almost to the point of matching Marui's, and failing entirely. 'Does that mean you want to be my boyfriend?'

Marui's somewhat bemused but definitely pleased smile at Akutagawa-kun's grin turned into a grimace, and he closed one eye, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. At that, though, Akutagawa-kun looked like someone had just killed his puppy, so Marui winced and put a hand on Akutagawa-kun's arm.

'I didn't mean it like that,' he said quickly. 'I just...I don't like that word. But...'

He hesitated, suddenly feeling very shy. 'But...I like what it means. At least, what I think it means. Because I don't really _know_ for sure what that is, since I haven't thought about it all that much, or haven't had the opportunity to anyway, but I think I get it, enough anyway to...'

 _I'm babbling again_ , he realized, and shut his mouth, chewing on the tip of his tongue. _Deep breath, Marui._ He really hadn't thought about this before, unless one were to count the previous night. He was still feeling a bit...weird about all of this, because it was so different from anything else he'd ever experienced, though it wasn't like he hadn't heard about it from his friends and such, and he was kind of nervous and lost and not liking the feeling of being so off-kilter, but the hopeful look on Akutagawa-kun's face was bewitching, and Marui found himself with only one word pervading his thoughts.

'Yes,' he said, quietly, face aflame and blood roaring in his ears (and, truth be told, between his legs again), and then bit his lip, squinting up at Akutagawa-kun and waiting.

Jirou's face became progressively cloudier and cloudier as Marui tried to explain himself, but when he finally reached his conclusion of 'yes' Jirou's eyes lit up again, brightening his features considerably. He only looked happier when the blush across Marui's cheeks deepened and he thought he felt him squirm a little.

There really wasn't anything he could add to make that better, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to Marui's, starting out chaste but soon losing himself enough to suck enthusiastically at Marui's bottom lip. It was so swollen from Marui chewing on it that Jirou stopped his sucking to give it a few soothing, teasing licks, and then pulled his mouth away altogether to rest his forehead against Marui's.

'I like you a lot,' he said, and he knew it should've been an embarrassing confession, but for whatever reason it just wasn't. He was completely oblivious to any sense of anxiety they might be seen or concern over just what _this_ was; really, about the only things he was aware of anymore were his mingled drowsiness and a building arousal. _Damn_ , Marui seemed to eliminate any need for a rejuvenation period.

For whatever reason, something that usually just made Marui think _I know, it's because I'm awesome_ this time made his blush darken even more, which he hadn't thought was possible. Granted, the 'I like' part had never involved doing naughty things with the other person, so it wasn't _quite_ the same connotation, but that didn't explain why Marui felt the weird glowy feeling in his chest like he got after eating freshly baked home-made cookies.

'Why?' he blurted, before he could stop himself, because that wasn't what you were supposed to say, he didn't think, but he had to ask it anyway.

Jirou looked as startled as if Marui had just asked him why he liked tennis, and he pulled back a bit, blinking, trying to figure out how to put into words an answer _he_ had thought was completely obvious.

'Because!' Jirou said, adamantly, and when he realized that probably wouldn't suffice, he continued hurriedly, 'You're awesome, and you're amazing at tennis, and you're funny and smart and . . . you actually talked back when I talked to you, and. . . .'

He trailed off, looking a little embarrassed, and at last finished with, '. . . And you like me too?'

He did, Marui realized. He really did. He didn't know when he'd started to, and if Akutagawa-kun had asked him the same question, he didn't know that he'd be able to answer, but he definitely did. But something still felt odd, and he couldn't explain that either.

'Yeah,' he said quietly, and then caught hold of Akutagawa-kun's hand, pressing it with some odd sense of urgency. 'But...but don't...you need more than that? That seems so...'

 _Inadequate_ , he thought, and bit his lip hard. There was more to that thought than he could sort out right now, brain hazy from what they'd just done and Akutagawa-kun's confession, but there was something else that he wasn't able to acknowledge, something that had him...scared about this.

'Akutagawa-kun,' he said, and was thrown by the _pleading_ in his voice, asking for something he was pretty sure he wouldn't recognize until he had it.

'More?' Jirou's brow furrowed in confusion as he met Marui's eyes, trying to figure out what he was implying.

'What else do I need? You make me happy.' He said this so casually it was as if he were merely telling Marui the time, and when Marui didn't look immediately relieved, he gave his hand a squeeze and smiled in a perplexed sort of way.

'You're a good kisser, too,' he said, winking mischievously.

It still didn't make sense to Marui, but the look on Akutagawa-kun's face was so _earnest_ that Marui didn't have the heart to ask anymore. It warmed something inside him regardless, making a smile spread across his own face, and he chuckled a bit brokenly, shaking his head before resting it against Akutagawa-kun's shoulder.

'You're really...something else,' he said, as if that explained everything.

Jirou let out a pleased 'Mmm' and buried his face in Marui's hair, breathing in the smell of shampoo and sweat and _Marui_ with a very satisfied smirk.

'I need a shower,' he said suddenly, breaking the quiet reverie that had fallen over them. He lifted his head to meet Marui's gaze with half-lidded eyes. 'You probably do, too.'

One of his hands began trailing up and down Marui's arm. 'I've got my own bathroom.'

Marui blushed at the suggestiveness hidden beneath those pale eyelashes, and shivered as he felt goosebumps prickling his arms. But something had shifted inside him, and aside from being nervous and, well, bashful, he found himself meeting that gaze, a mischievous smirk curving his own mouth.

'Why, Akutagawa-kun,' he murmured in a voice rather close to a purr. 'Are you asking me on a date?'

'Yes,' Jirou said instantly, thrilled that Marui was catching on at last. He caught Marui's chin with one hand and pressed their lips together swiftly before rocking back on his feet, grabbing Marui's wrists to pull him up along with him.

Once they were both standing, they took a moment to adjust their clothing, trying to make themselves as presentable as possible - which was somewhat difficult, seeing as they both had fairly sizable stains on the front of their shorts, and Jirou would wager his hair looked at least as unruly as Marui's. He was suddenly grateful to know about the side door into his wing of the mansion where they could probably slip past any other tennis players unnoticed. The servants were another story, but, well . . . if Atobe-buchou's servants weren't used to eccentric behavior by now, they surely wouldn't be in his employ much longer.

'C'mon,' Jirou said brightly, taking Marui's hand and twining their fingers together. 'Oh, and,' he added, flashing Marui a sly grin over his shoulder. 'You should call me Jirou, Bunta-kun.'


End file.
